


the way i get by

by electricindigo



Series: road to recovery [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Sensory Overload, Teenagers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Traumatized Peter, peter deserves to be protected, peter is really a kid, tony is Trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 11:32:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11462712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricindigo/pseuds/electricindigo
Summary: Peter tries to deal with the trauma he's experiencing after defeating Vulture. He realizes he can't do it alone.





	the way i get by

**Author's Note:**

> spider-man homecoming did not disappoint at all! tom holland portrayed spider-man exactly how he should be - a kid. here’s what i think would happen to a fifteen year old kid who went through VERY traumatizing experiences.
> 
> i headcanon that peter can't be around anything that could potentially crush him. he hates heights and water, too.
> 
> warnings: spoilers for spider-man homecoming, panic attacks, ptsd, and the like. I hope you enjoy!

Peter is no stranger to panic attacks.

 

In fact, he’s had _a lot_ of experiences with them. He can remember the exact moment when he realizes his parents basically abandoned him. He spends the evening crying in Uncle Ben’s and Aunt May’s arms. The next one happens when the bullying gets really bad in middle school. Then the whole Skip incident happens and... Well, Peter would rather not think about that.

 

The worst one happens after Uncle Ben's death. He spends two hours crying and gasping in the shower, forgetting how to breathe.

 

After that, Peter’s anxiety seems to lessen into a more bearable emotion. It's always there, but he's able to contain it by keeping himself busy. However, it starts to spike again after the whole Vulture situation.

 

Peter starts to stay awake all night. He isn’t having really horrible nightmares, but he wakes up in the middle of the night way too paranoid to go back to sleep. He lives with the fact that Liz’s life was basically ruined because of him and that so many people had nearly died because of his recklessness. The weight of the world starts to get harder and harder to hold up and logically, Peter knows it’s only a matter of time before he completely breaks.

 

But he’s fine now, at least. He’s still keeping it together for the most part.

 

(Peter’s lying to himself. He knows it.)

 

* * *

 

 

_“There are about 50 reporters outside, not bloggers, waiting to meet the newest Avenger.”_

 

Peter groans and bites his lip as he opens the door to his apartment. _Why the hell did I say no?_ He thinks to himself. _Becoming an Avenger was literally all I wanted, and I threw it all away…_

 

Sighing, he looks around. “May?” Shrugging, he goes to his room and freezes when he sees a package on his bed.

 

**This belongs to you.**

 

  * ****T.S.****



 

 

Peter frowns, opening it to find his suit. He should be excited right? He should be grateful that Mr. Stark thinks he’s worthy enough to get the suit back, but for some reason, he doesn’t. Frowning, he slips off his clothes and puts it on, trying to ignore how anxious he suddenly feels. It’s probably just nerves from being too excited. (That’s what he tells himself.)

 

He takes out his phone and sends a message to Happy. **“If Mr. Stark needs any help with anything I think that I can still be of service but not right now. I’m sorry about what happened thanks for being so patient with me :)”**

 

Happy replies less than a minute after. **“Take care, kid. You’re doing well.”**

 

Peter looks at his phone and sighs. He should be happy, but for some reason he’s not. He’s quite indifferent. He doesn’t feel that safe in the suit anymore and…

 

“What the _fuck?!”_

 

* * *

 

It takes hours for May to calm down. She yells and holds him when he finally confides in her, rocking him back and forth slowly. “You’re a kid,” she says in disbelief. “You’re too young to be doing these things.”

 

Peter can feel frustrated tears filling his eyes but he forces them down. “I know what I’m doing, May,” he lies, biting his lip. “I’ll be fine okay? And - and I’m sorry I made you worry again.”

 

They don’t have dinner that night. May takes a shower and locks herself in her room, and Peter can’t blame her for being upset. He’d be upset too, if his only family member left was risking his/her life every night just to prove a point. When it’s midnight, he leaves his room and tiptoes over to May’s, intending to apologize. He’s about to knock on the door when he hears sniffling from the other side.

 

Is she… crying?

 

Peter’s heart stops. He can handle May being mad at him but he can’t handle her crying because of him, that’s just - that’s just too much. _Way_ too much for him to handle.

 

“No,” he whispers, rubbing his eyes. He can feel his hands start to shake. _I can’t do this,_ he thinks, dashing down the hall and opening the bathroom door.

 

Peter leaves the lights off. He spends the next twenty minutes hiding behind the shower curtain, covering his mouth so his panicked gasps aren’t heard.

 

* * *

 

The next day, his walls come crashing down.

 

The morning started bad enough to begin with. He spent the entire night tossing and turning with guilt after hearing Aunt May crying. He was late for English class and he missed a quiz, earning a sermon from his teacher by the end of the period. He left his earphones at home, so he couldn’t block out the noises that were enhanced by his Spidey-sense. And now he was sitting down at a decathlon meeting, listening to his team talk about recruiting new people since Liz unfortunately had to move. Peter’s heart rate spikes when the topic of Spider-Man is brought up.

 

“Parker, you gotta find out for us,” Flash says, hitting Peter’s shoulder.

 

Peter flinches and looks up. “Uh, find out what?”

 

“Find out details on what actually happened. You know, if you really know Spider-Man.”

 

“Oh, uh… I don’t know if that’s a good idea, b-but I’m sure Spider-Man did what he thought was right…”

  
He scoffs. “I guess. But he ruined Liz’s life, basically. And now everyone knows her dad’s a no good thief, right, Parker?”

 

Peter doesn’t answer. He _can’t_ answer, actually. He feels as if he’s underwater, the voices around him fading into muffled thumps and sounds just like when he walking into Homecoming. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop. In fact, his heart rate starts to beat erratically, just like when he was younger and…

 

 _This can’t be happening,_ Peter thinks, wobbling unsteadily in his seat. _This hasn’t happened since- since Uncle Ben- since before I became Spider-Man-_

 

“Pete? You don’t look so good,” Ned says quietly, his big eyes wide with concern. Peter blinks and jiggles his legs up and down, trying to take deep breaths. The sound of his knees hitting the table startles the rest of his teammates and he quickly grabs them to stop from shaking.

 

“Yo Parker, are you alright?” Flash says. He doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of him, which is strange. He genuinely sounds concerned.

 

“I feel nauseous,” Peter blurts out, ignoring the stares of his teammates. He grabs his bag and rushes off, stumbling to the bathroom, running into a cubicle and sliding down the wall. He covers his mouth to stifle his breaths as the panic attack takes over.

 

 _Not again,_ he thinks, shaking his head. _Control yourself, Peter, you’ve got this. C’mon. Breathe. It’s over, it’s okay._

 

“…Peter?”

 

Peter opens his eyes and blinks a couple times. He can see the top of Ned’s sneakers peeking in from under the stall door. “Mmhmm?” He replies.

 

“…Uh, are… Are you okay?”

 

Peter doesn’t answer Ned’s question. Instead, he unlocks the door and pushes it to see his best friend’s concerned face. “Let’s go back.”

 

“The meeting’s almost over,” Ned says, eyes wide. “Uh, they’re gonna ask you why you ran off. Michelle, uh, MJ’s hella concerned.”

 

“Nevermind,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “Just, just tell them I got sick, okay?”

 

“Where are you really going?” Ned frowns.

 

“I don’t know, okay? I’ll be fine. I’ll call you.”

 

Before Ned can say anything, Peter dashes off and basically runs out of the campus. He can feel his chest constricting again, and he makes sure he’s out of sight before he swings himself on top of a random building to try and alleviate his growing anxiety.

 

 _Here we go again,_ he thinks, closing his eyes and turning his phone on silent. Aunt May has been calling him for hours but he doesn’t want to answer.

 

He doesn’t like being Peter, he doesn’t _want_ to be Peter, he hates being the uncool kid who needed to be bitten by a spider to become a person of value, he hates knowing that he killed his Uncle, he hates that he ruined his chance with the girl he liked, he hates that he put so much stress on Tony and Happy, and oh _God_ , his poor Aunt deserves a nephew so much better than him and-

 

“Hey! Stop them!”

 

Peter blinks and catches his breath when he hears someone call for help. He peeks over the edge of the rooftop to see three men running away from a bank, sirens wailing in the distance as civilians scream for help. _Great, a distraction,_ Peter thinks, standing up and grabbing his bag to put on the suit. _I know what to do._

 

* * *

 

“I’ve detected a rise in your heartbeat, Peter,” Karen’s robotic voice speaks as soon as the suit is put on.

 

“Shut up for a sec, Karen,” Peter mumbles, swinging from roof to roof. “I gotta focus.”

 

“It is not ideal to take down enemies while you’re emotional state is unstable.”

 

“Shut _up,”_ he whines, sounding very much like a child. “Let me do what I need to do, okay?”

 

The A.I. doesn’t speak after that, and Peter counts that as a small blessing. He sneaks up and finds the robbers loading all the cash into a parking lot and his entire paradigm shifts. He fights and fights and fights, feeling the adrenaline rushing through him, but not being able to concentrate well enough to fight with a strategy. The robbers begin to shoot everywhere, hitting the walls and the ceiling, but not hitting him. He evades quickly and shoots webs at them with all his might.

 

His ears are ringing from the adrenaline, so he diverts his attention to what he sees instead. The three men keep shooting but suddenly, they look anxious. They suddenly turn and sprint the other way. Blinking in confusion, Peter looks around and sees… Oh. _Oh._

 

Peter can barely react as the ceiling begins to collapse on top of him. Again. “Fuck,” he whimpers. This was _way_ too familiar, _way_ too soon. “Fuck fuck fuck I can’t get out, Karen, help me, Karen please-”

 

His suit goes on autopilot. The debris on top of him is not nearly as heavy and dangerous as what Toomes had dropped on him, but the feeling of being constricted leaves him hyperventilating and gasping with tears in his eyes. Once Karen directs him out of the debris, he crawls away and uses the last of his energy to swing into a nearby alley, sliding down against the dumpster as his breaths begin to come quicker.

 

_“Oh God, okay, okay ready,” Peter gasps out from under all the destruction. His face is wet with tears and he can feel his bladder ready to give out from the pure fear rushing through his body. Gasping loudly, he tries to push himself out from under the construction. It doesn’t work._

 

_Peter feels his heart rate spike. “H-help!” he cries out as loud as he can, twice, feeling himself start to really panic. “Pl-please, I-I’m down here, I’m down here, I-I’m stuck, I’m stuck, I can’t move, I cant-” he screams, sobbing loudly, breaking down completely from under all the rubble. His body is limp from exhaustion and tears continue to stream down his face._

 

_‘This is how it ends,’ he thinks, feeling bile churn in his stomach. ‘This is how I die.’_

 

_He spends a few minutes crying and shaking, trying to figure out how to get out, but it's hard, he can't breathe, he doesn't have his suit, he - he can't -_

 

_“If you’re nothing without the suit, you shouldn’t have it.”_

 

“You seem to be having a panic attack,” Karen’s voice interrupts Peter’s flashback. “What do you need?”

 

Peter closes his eyes and shakes his head. Tony was right. Peter really _was_ nothing. He has his suit back but it doesn’t help at all. He’s just a fucked up kid now, a kid who doesn’t deserve to-

 

“Peter, you are in severe emotional distress. What do you need?” Karen’s robotic voice repeats.

 

“N-nothing, just, just leave me be,” Peter gasps out.

 

“I’m afraid I cannot do that. I am going to have to notify someone of your predicament. Would you like me to call your Aunt?”

 

“ _No!”_ He pleads, shaking his head. “Don’t-don’t call her, Karen, I’ll be fine,”

 

“You are lying.”

 

“S-seriously. I’m used to this, I just don’t know how to- how to make it pass.”

 

“Tony Stark has a record of having bad anxiety attacks. Maybe he will help. I will call him now.”

 

“NO! Karen, n-no, _don’t call him,_ please K-Karen-”

 

“Dialing Tony Stark,” Karen says before her system shuts off and the sound of the dial tone is heard.

 

Tony’s face appears before Peter can pretend everything’s okay. “Peter, this better be important. I’m in the middle of a - wait, kid, are you okay?”

 

“Don’t,” he whimpers, choking on his breath as he fumbles to hang up. His eyesight is blurry and his hands are shaking too much to do anything well, so he struggles a bit.

 

“Peter, don’t what? Where are you?” Mr. Stark says, his voice tense. “Don’t hang up, I’m gonna trace your location and-”

 

Peter shuts down his suit by pressing the drone on his chest to manually take it off, fumbling for his backpack beside him and taking out his jacket. With shaky hands, he changes back into his regular clothes and slides back down against the wall, gripping his mask tightly.

 

 _It’ll pass,_ he tries to reassure himself, hiding his face in between his legs and shielding his head with his jacket. _It’s just another panic attack. You’re Spider-Man, Peter. You don't need to call Tony to help you. You defeated Vulture. You - you shouldn’t be afraid of anything anymore._

 

* * *

 

 

Peter’s not surprised when Tony Stark shows up at his exact location ten minutes later. Tony sits down beside him and holds his hand over his chest, making him follow his breathing. Somewhere in the midst of Peter’s panicked mind, he’s shocked at how natural it feels to be calmed down by Tony. He seems to know what he’s doing, and that thought makes Peter feel like he’s in safe hands.

 

It takes some time for Peter to stop shaking and gasping, but when it’s over, he feels like he could collapse and sleep for a month straight.

 

“S-Sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers when he feels he can talk a little.

 

“Kid, you have nothing to be sorry for,” his mentor replies, his voice strangely gentle. “Really, you don’t.”

 

Peter opens his mouth to say something back, but he can’t find the right words. Instead, he scoots a little bit closer to him, too tired to notice just how young he’s acting.

 

“Can I hug you?” Mr. Stark asks awkwardly. A ghost of a smile passes through Peter’s lips before he nods and curls up by his side, trying to calm his breathing some more. He feels a strong arm wrap around him and for some reason, he smile turns into a frown and he finally, _finally_ breaks.

 

Peter starts to cry. He hides his face in Tony’s side as tears start slipping down his cheeks. His life after defeating Toomes had proven to be _very_ difficult, and all the effects were crashing onto him _now._ He shudders and shakes while he listens to Mr. Stark repeat words of comfort and reassurance in his ear.

 

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, wrapped in Mr. Stark’s arms and hiding his face in his (now wet) jacket. But when it’s over, his legs are cramped and his head feels like bursting. His face flushes a bright red when he realizes how pathetic he was and he scrambles up, trying to avoid Mr. Stark’s gaze.

 

“I-I should g-go,” he stutters.

 

“Go where?”

 

“I-I, I dunno, I’ll cr-crash at Ned’s? I d-don’t know, I j-just-”

 

The man shushes him and stands up too, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Kid, calm down. You’re working yourself up again. I’ll drive you home, okay?”

 

“B-but, it’s out of your w-way,”

 

“It’s not a problem,” Mr. Stark says easily, smiling. “I understand. I’m sure May is worried sick.”

 

Peter closes his eyes and nods, wrapping his arms around his stomach. _May._ “I r-ruined everything,” he mumbles, feeling tears spill over his cheeks again.

 

“Does she… Does she know?”

 

Peter nods, a sob escaping his mouth. “She hates me,” he whimpers, hiding his face again. “I-I’m not good enough. I don’t d-deserve her,”

 

His thoughts are interrupted as Mr. Stark quickly steps towards him to embrace him again. “May loves you, Peter. Now breathe. Follow my heartbeat.”

 

“…”

 

“You’re okay, Peter. You’re gonna be just fine, kid. I’ve got you.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Thanks for bringing him home, Tony.”

 

“It’s not a problem,” Tony says quietly, watching Peter trudge to his room from over May’s shoulder. “Uh, will he be okay?”

 

“Eventually,” May replies, sighing and shaking her head. “He has a lot on his shoulders, and all he needs is support right now.”

 

“I feel bad for not noticing it sooner,” Tony confides, dropping his voice down to a whisper. “He doesn’t seem like the type of kid with a lot of baggage.”

 

“Trust me, he does,” May says bitterly. “I’m sure you know about his parents. And when he was 12, there was an older boy named Skip, who tried to… Uh, and then my husband died last year, and for some weird reason, Peter blames himself for every horrible thing that happened to us.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Tony speaks, feeling awkward and sad and confused. “I hope I didn’t cause you any more stress.”

 

“Believe me, Tony, you have,” May laughs sadly, wiping her eyes. “But it’s okay. I can’t clip his wings forever.”

 

“You need to help him,” Tony says. “He’ll listen to you. I think he needs to see a professional about this. I’ll pay for his sessions and everything.”

 

“Maybe,” she echoes, then looks up. “Tony, this _cannot_ go on the way it did before. He needs to be protected.”

 

“I’ll protect him, May.”

 

“How can you prove it?” She asks, her eyes passionate. “He’s basically my kid. I am _not_ waiting around to see him get seriously hurt in another stupid mission-”

 

“I know, May,” Tony speaks again. “I’ll protect him, okay?”

 

“You _have_ to,” she emphasizes, her eyes teary. “He’s all I’ve got left.”

 

Tony nods, feeling his heart tug at how much she loves him. It makes him understand how young Peter really is. They talk for a little more before he says goodbye. Before he leaves however, Peter comes out of his room in pajamas and runs into his arms, giving him the biggest hug ever. Tony is shocked, but he hugs the teenager back.

 

“Call me whenever you need help, yeah?” He says into Peter’s hair, rubbing his back. Peter nods shakily and gives him one last squeeze before letting go and going back to his room. May follows shortly after, letting Tony show himself out.

 

Tony drives away slowly. He doesn’t turn on the radio.

 

He’s too busy focusing on Peter Parker, the fifteen year old masked vigilante with a lot of weight on his shoulders. He’s unsure of a lot of things, but he can agree on one:

 

He’s going to protect that boy till the day he dies.

**Author's Note:**

> english is not my first language. please forgive me (or correct me) if i have any grammatical errors.
> 
> you can probably tell that i really like writing angsty stories. leave me comments and angsty requests (please) for peter in the comments!
> 
> COMING UP: May brings up the possibility of seeing a shrink. Peter hates the idea and runs off, finding himself in the Avengers Tower.
> 
> thank you x


End file.
